


A Lust for Battle

by Kittisnake



Category: Coriolanus - Shakespeare
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 21:35:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7285603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittisnake/pseuds/Kittisnake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Act 4, scene 5: Coriolanus visits his Aufidius. This is totally canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lust for Battle

_Let me twine_  
_Mine arms around that body, where against_  
_My grained ash an hundred times hath broke_  
_And scarred the moon with splinters: here I clip_  
_The anvil of my sword, and do contest_  
_As hotly and as nobly with thy love_  
_As ever in ambitious strength I did_  
_Contend against thy valour._

His enemy stood before him, asking for his help. The Roman could claim that revenge was his only motivation, but Aufidius knew better. They had fought too many times and too closely for him not to recognize the look behind the anger in the other man's eyes. He had seen it every time they met on the field of battle, every time they shattered their spears against their shields, cast down their weapons and threw themselves at each other. Every time they fought hand-to-hand, snarling, biting, tasting each other's blood and sweat. A lust for battle that turned so quickly to arousal.  
Yes, Aufidius knew why Marcius had come to him.

_Know thou first,_  
_I loved the maid I married; never man_  
_Sigh'd truer breath; but that I see thee here,_  
_Thou noble thing! more dances my rapt heart_  
_Than when I first my wedded mistress saw_  
_Bestride my threshold. Why, thou Mars! I tell thee_  
_We have a power on foot; and I had purpose_  
_Once more to hew thy target from thy brawn,_  
_Or lose my arm fort: thou hast beat me out_  
_Twelve several times, and I have nightly since_  
_Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thyself and me;_  
_We have been down together in my sleep,_  
_Unbuckling helms, fisting each other's throat,_  
_And waked half dead with nothing._

There was not much difference between their grappling on the battlefield and in the bedroom. Only the goal had changed. Now they wrestled for a different kind of dominance, one that would allow both of them victory. They took turns pinning the other to the mattress, tangling each other in the sheets. Their bites became kisses, their punches caresses, their battle cries low moans. Their joining was rough, hard, warlike. It left bruises. It was everything they had feared, everything they wanted. They reached heights they never dreamed of achieving, and when they came down they fell together.

_You bless me, gods!_

They lay spent, wrapped in each other's arms. Politics, treachery, and death darkened their future, but for this one shining moment they were content.


End file.
